The Funeral
by DowagerInTraining
Summary: In 1955, Anna attends the funeral of her beloved husband. Her friends and family are there to support her as she thinks through her memories of the man she loved and everything they shared in their life together.


**1955**

"Mum...?"

She's startled by his voice. She'd been staring out of the window, but not really seeing anything beyond the rain on the glass.

"The cars are here."

He looks so handsome in the dark formal suit, stocky and dark haired, the image of his father. Twenty four years old now, where have the years gone? It's strange to think that she was his age when she first met John. It seems like a lifetime ago now. In fact, it was a lifetime ago.

"Are you alright Mum?"

What a question to ask today. She doubts she will ever be alright again. But she was blessed for so many years with happiness beyond comprehension, she shouldn't really complain. And there is still so much good in her life to cherish that would never have been without John.

She smiles bravely at her son.

"I will be, Jack. Let's go then, shall we?"

Walking slowly, her best black shoes squeaking against the floorboards, she turns to close the door to her bedroom. Her heart breaks all over again at the idea that she will have to sleep there alone tonight and every night from now on.

Erin and her husband are waiting in the sitting room, with serious faces. Like her father, she's a brooder, thinks Anna.

 _Your husband is a brooder. And brooders brood._

For a moment she wants to laugh, thinking of his face, self effacing and slightly mocking, trying to make her smile in a black moment. Oh, how she longs to have him here, to make her laugh through this awful, black day.

"Are you ready to go Mrs Bates?"

Her son-in-law George is on his feet, her coat over his arm, ready to help her into it. He's another one who looks like his father, tall and distinguished, almost as blonde as his wife.

The church bell starts to ring in the distance, as they drive away, following the hearse.

...

"I am the resurrection and the light..."

Anna has been to so many funerals in recent years that the words slide off her, familiar noises with no real meaning any more.

"He who believeth in me, though he may die, yet shall he live..."

Erin reaches for her hand, gives a gentle squeeze, letting her mother know that she is there for her. She remembers making the same gesture towards Elsie at Charles's funeral two years ago. Her other hand had gripped John's gloved fingers so tightly. Had it already been two years? Time makes no sense to her any more.

The vicar has stopped speaking and it's time for the eulogy.

There's a murmur around the church when they realise that a woman is going to give the speech. It might be 1955, but some things still cause whispers to flow, and the sight of Lady Mary Napier, Countess of Branksome, stepping up toward the lectern, causes a few heads to turn. Anna smiles to herself, thinks that Lady Mary must be used to this sort of reaction by now.

Mary speaks with such sincerity, such open affection, that many of the congregation are moved to tears. Joseph sniffs quietly into a handkerchief, his wife Phyllis holding his hand. Daisy and Andy are in the pew next to them, with their son Billy, who surely must be 20 years old by now. Tears are rolling down Daisy's face. She makes no attempt to stop them. Even the Dowager Countess of Grantham, Lady Cora Crawley, has red eyes and sallow cheeks today.

"John Bates was more than an employee to my family. He was one of our dearest friends. He protected our honour, stood beside us through our trials and times of grief and heart ache, and served my father with integrity and pride. My dear Papa used to say that he and John Bates had succeeded in crossing the great divide, and he was proud beyond measure to count him as a friend."

Anna remembers all the ups and downs that they went through together over the years. The twists and turns that carved out the path she and John took together. Always together, even when they were separated by injustice. Always united, even when they could not touch.

Had she known she loved him when she first met him?

She thinks so.

But did she know how much she loved before the moment that she lost him forever two days ago?

She doubts it.

The congregation are on their feet, singing 'All creatures great and small'. The service is done and the coffin is borne out. Joseph walks steadfast behind the pall bearers, straight and stiff at the age of eighty one, determined to honour his old friend even if he cannot help to carry him to his final resting place.

Anna's son Jack Bates and son-in-law George Crawley lead the way, side by side, brothers in arms as well as in marriage.

Erin and Mary escort her out, to throw the white rose and first handful of earth into the grave.

...

There are so many people at the wake. More than she could have imagined. Friends old and new, rich and poor, humble and the grandest of the grand. Lady Edith and Miss Marigold have come from London. Sybbie has travelled with them, bringing apologies from her father, who was heartbroken that he could not make it due to ill health.

Mrs Carson and Mrs Mason, who everyone still calls Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore, are sat to one side, sharing a pot of tea and their memories of the dear man, the honourable valet. The man they doubted when he first arrived at the back door and struggled to do without when he left.

Gwen and her husband offer their condolences to her, and Alfred stands guard at the magnificent cake that he has provided for all of John's friends to feast upon while they salute his memory. It even meets Mrs Patmore's exacting standards, which is a higher compliment than any he has received in his career at the Ritz.

Towards the back of the church, Anna had even spied Thomas. He hadn't come to the wake, but she was touched that he made the effort to come and say goodbye. They have lived long enough to realise that the line between old adversaries and old friends is thinner than most people would believe.

Suddenly the noise is just too much, the room is too crowded and she can't breathe. Making her excuses, she quietly slips out to stand in the wintery damp air at the back door to the hotel.

How strange to think of Downton Abbey as now being a hotel.

Standing in what she always thought of as 'their' courtyard, Anna sees memories everywhere. The place where he first kissed her, after his round about proposal. The doorway where they huddled together, his arms wrapped around her against the cold. The old stacking crates where they used to sit, rotten now but never removed.

 _Go to sleep and dream of a better man._

There was never a better man than John.

"Mum?"

She turns to her son.

"Is there anything I can do?"

She begins to cry. There is only one thing she wants right now, and he is far away, beyond her love.

I think I would love you, however, whatever, whenever.

"Oh I miss him Jack... I miss him so much..."

Her son's voice breaks in response as he holds his mother against his shoulder.

"We all do Mum. We all do."

"Anna?"

The voice is older and thinner, but still as correct and well pronounced as ever. Mary emerges behind them both.

"Go on Jack. I'll be along in a bit."

Mary moves to stand with Anna, reaches for her hand as Jack rejoins the gathering with a last look. Anna turns to face her old employer, her friend through many years.

"I don't think I've ever been out here..." says Mary softly.

"Haven't you? I feel I spent half my life here."

"Was this where you used to talk?"

Anna gives a weak chuckle.

"Some of the biggest moments of my life happened here. This was where John proposed. I wasn't sure I could bear to come and stand here again."

Mary smiles, through unshed tears.

"I know. I felt the same every time I came home, after Matthew..."

Her words trail off, choked by old grief. Anna squeezes her hand.

"How did you find any solace when he died?"

"It took a long time. But in the end my solace was George. And Downton Abbey."

"Do you mind about it being a hotel?"

Mary scoffs, looks almost bemused by the question.

"Good lord no, not after all this time. I had my doubts when George proposed the scheme, but once he brought you two in as advisors to help him run the place, I had few concerns at all. In fact... I think Matthew would have been quite proud of how it turned out, still bringing in business to the area, providing employment for the people who live here."

"John was so happy to come back here for the last years of his life."

"And we were happy to have him here, as we are to have you. And we hope you will stay with us. You're family now. Although deep down, you always were to me. You, and Rose, were as much my sisters as Edith and darling Sybil."

For the first time ever in their long friendship, Mary wraps her arms around Anna and pulls her into an embrace. All at once, the scent of her perfume and makeup flows through Anna's senses, bringing back echoes of the days of luxury, before the Great War and during the roaring twenties.

 _No man could regret loving as I have loved you._

She finds herself filled with peace, to think that John's legacy will go on, in the form of his son and daughter, and the successful preservation of Downton, which he helped to maintain as one of his last acts on earth.

"Do you think they might be together now? John and Matthew?"

"Oh I've no doubt," Mary whispers softly. "With Papa, and Carson, and Sybil and darling Granny. It'll be the best reunion party, and we will see them all again someday."

The moment ends, the embrace draws apart. Smiling at each other, equals at last, the two women take a second to give a last tender thought to the men they loved, before walking back indoors and joining the gathering of their dearest friends and family.


End file.
